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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23513086">So close</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Randomhphg/pseuds/Randomhphg'>Randomhphg</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:14:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>589</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23513086</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Randomhphg/pseuds/Randomhphg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tigger warning <br/>Knowing that the edge blade of a blade was near reassured him. He could run away at any moment: all he had to do was open the drawer where the blade was and plunge it into his skin.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

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<a name="section0001"><h2>So close</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is not my work. I just translated it from Spanish to English. </p><p>Original story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17272118<br/>Author: @ununquadius</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Knowing that the sharp edge of a blade was near reassured him. He could run away at any moment: all he had to do was open the drawer where the blade was and plunge it into his skin. He imagined how blood would spill in a thick red from his wrists to the ground. How a puddle would form around him as his body grew cold and his soul fled to a better place. He imagined the other side as something light and painless, without mistakes. Liberation, finally.</p><p> </p><p>He imagined his parents discovering the corpse.</p><p> </p><p>Thus ended his reverie. Sometimes he thought that was the only reason he was still alive. He couldn't hurt them. Not with everything they had suffered.</p><p> </p><p>Still, he kept the blade close. Sometimes he practised digging his nails into his skin until he hurt himself until the pain made him forget the reason why he resorted to it. But the pain was temporary, and the infinite heartbreak.</p><p> </p><p>There were so many dark clouds that populated his soul ... The war. The prejudices. Torture. Death. The blame. One mistake after another that ended up forming something too big and too horrible to escape just by wanting. There was no release. Life was just that: pain, guilt, and darkness.</p><p> </p><p>Darkness was the worst. It clung to him like a dense, oily mass, preventing him from breathing. He did not sleep, he did not eat and he wanted to die every moment he remained awake.</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes he thought it was a mistake to keep him alive. Better people were dead, why not him? At some point, the laws of the universe had twisted, had looked away, and had allowed him to go on living when so many others had perished.</p><p> </p><p>He had stopped dreaming or getting excited about the future. Reluctance and apathy were his companions. The crying haunted him on every anniversary of the Hogwarts battle, but it only gave him a tiny breath. Then came the hammering of guilt. The certainty that it was he who had killed all those people; that his cowardice, incompetence, and stupidity had been responsible for the tragedy.</p><p> </p><p>Only a couple of meters. That was the distance the blade was at. But sometimes the effort of getting out of bed and reaching her was enough to exhaust him. For now, it was enough for him to know that he could do it if he wanted to. But he was a coward even to kill himself.</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes the darkness became less black. First, it acquired an intense grey tone, and then it took off whitish tints. I could almost forget her. I could almost pretend that everything was fine. He had discovered a passion for someone that he liked. She had discovered her love for Harry as well as the joys of life together and parenting. Then it was no longer her parents who ended her fantasies, but the tearful faces of Harry, Lily, and Scorpius.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>But too painful anniversaries came. Articles in The Prophet who did not hesitate to point guilty. People who launched insults without shame and without thinking that in twenty years people changed. And the darkness was flooding everything again, thicker and blacker than ever.</p><p> </p><p>And just a few meters away was release.</p><p> </p><p>With just one step, the suffering would end.</p><p> </p><p>There was nobody at home. Who was going to prevent it?</p><p> </p><p>The blade turned cold against the skin.</p><p> </p><p>And just as he had imagined, blood welled up in bright red tears that ran down his skin ...</p><p> </p><p>"Draco!"</p>
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